When your Subconscious Betrays You
by Hyyp chick
Summary: Author: Hyyp Chick Pairing: Anakin/Obi-Wan Rating: R maybe? Disclaimer: No I don't own them, George does Summary: Another trip into my 'Anakin's dreams' memory bank.


Author: Hyyp Chick  
Pairing: Anakin/Obi-Wan  
Rating: R maybe?  
Disclaimer: No I don't own them, George does  
Summary: Another trip into my 'Anakin's dreams' memory bank.

Note: This is just a quick throw together of a fic that I needed out of my system this morning so do not expect the greatest thing ever to be written, but I hope you enjoy it anyways.

Anakin's eyelids fluttered furiously, his body twisting and writhing to the images in his dream. The young semi naked Padawan was stretched out on a mattress made of luxury under delicate sheets of chiffon mussed up after a fitful night's sleep and slender digits were lightly fingering his braid; but the fantasy behind his eyes was very different.

In his dream he was on some foreign world; a world of jungle, of bogs, and above all rain. He'd been there for days trudging slowly through the dense overgrowth and all it had done was rain. His cloak and tunic were saturated and he was soaked through to the bone as the layers stuck and clung awkwardly to his skin. The water had even penetrated his usually impermeable boots so that his feet made horrible squelching noises with every step they took.

He'd long since given up on his hood and his eyes were sore from the constant and futile attempts to dry them with sodden sweeps from the back of his hand. His hair hadn't been cut in weeks and was becoming rebelliously adverse to staying in his tie back, preferring instead to loop and coil into unmanageable curls that were a dark dirty blonde from the water that glued them to his scalp. Even his braid could not escape the torrent and a permanent river trickled off the end that had become moulded into a fine point.

The troopers seemed to have no problems coping with the conditions, their uniforms made the rain water off a duck's back for them, but a sideward glance to Obi-Wan proved that the Jedi Master was suffering just as much as his Padawan and if possible he looked even more irritable about the fact.

Then it seemed that all of a sudden night had befallen this world and the team had set up camp again. The outside of the canvas' were deep coloured as the water poured off them but inside at least they were dry if still muggy from the humidity of the exotic forests that surrounded them.

Anakin didn't know how the blankets that they carried had stayed dry when everything else they had was drenched, probably a device of his subconscious and he wasn't about to worry about it now as Obi-Wan threw a couple in his direction and ordered him to get out of his wet things.

Normally Anakin became uncharacteristically shy when stripping in front of his Master but in this dream he peeled off each sodden layer with confidence as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be doing. He tied one of the blankets tightly around his waist like a towel and crouched in the doorway of the tent wringing out his tunics as best he could, stealing lustful glances of Obi-Wan's peak conditioned body as he removed his own saturated robes.

With a blanket draped around his shoulders like a shroud Obi-Wan dropped a heat rock into a pan of water to warm it through and dutifully Anakin collected his Master's clothes to wring them out as he had his own. Then like a good little Padawan he hung them on the makeshift horse they'd constructed together after the first day of weather beating on this planet with the vain hopes that maybe they would dry by morning.

Obi-Wan watched on, proud of his Padawan's use of initiative to get the mundane done and appreciative of how this war had brought them closer together, closing the chasm that had grown between them in the preceding years.

After laying out the last damp tunic on the stick frame Anakin sat next to his Master and watched as Obi-Wan rubbed soap into a cloth before dipping it into the warm water. Authoritatively he demanded that Anakin remove the blanket he had wrapped around him; they didn't need that getting wet as well.

Anakin did as he was told and moaned approvingly as Obi-Wan began to scrub his back. The Jedi Master spooned himself into his Padawan as he washed him down, his muscular thighs pinning the boy's hips and his free hand tickling over damp skin as he scoured every inch of the young Jedi's body.

Anakin let himself fall back so that his head rested against Obi-Wan's chest and couldn't help but whimper when strong fingers curled around his braid and yanked it commandingly. He begged for more and got it as Obi-Wan's wet hand wrapped around his cock and started to stroke him, tugging on the Padawan braid simultaneously and whispering dirty, filthy words into his ear.

Anakin was hard in his Master's hand and Obi-Wan caressed him with a quick and furious pace, Anakin calling out his name as his need grew close writhing against the other Jedi and arching wantonly into his touch.

Then Obi-Wan had tangled his tongue over Anakin's ear and whispered lasciviously "come for me Padawan" and Anakin had, almost immediately, with his Master's name still tainting his lips.

A loud bang woke him suddenly from his fantasies.

Sunshine assaulted his eyes as he tried to adjust them to the morning light and ascertain who he was, where he was, and why he had woken with such a start.

Anakin could feel the tell tale dampness between his legs but he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his sleep pants anyway to check for himself. He hoped that maybe he hadn't really done that, that maybe what he could feel was his mind playing tricks on him from his dream.

But a quick exploration shattered any illusion he could have of that, and rather than the senior Padawan as was his status he felt like a youngling just hitting puberty.

It wasn't until he attempted to untangle himself from silken sheets that his true horrors hit him. As if having wet dreams at his age wasn't bad enough and about his own Master at that, Padme had been here with him, heard him, seen him!

He looked over at the bedroom door and envisaged her hurt and anger, he didn't think any amount of 'sorry's' and feigned 'I love you's' were going to cut it this time. Hurriedly he dressed in his discarded Jedi robes from the night before and made his escape through the window, with every hope that the council would dream up a mission to send him and Obi-Wan on, preferably to the outer rim, leaving today, and returning in the thousand years it would take for Padme to forget the desire of her husband's dream.


End file.
